It finally happens during the fourth week of her recovery.
He can't recall the exact day, or pinpoint the time, but he will never forget the moment.
Sakura had recovered phenomenally during the past few weeks - no wheelchair, no assistance needed bathing or using the bathroom, able to walk around on her own - and she decided she was feeling well enough for some less healthier food. So, Kakashi had made homemade ramen for the two of them. They sit and eat together, simply enjoying each other's company as they'd been doing for the past several weeks after their shared confession, when he takes their empty bowls into the kitchen to wash.
"Kakashi?"
The sound of her voice both calms and frightens him, and he doesn't miss that she's once again begun dropping the 'sensei'. "You don't have to do those anymore. I'm well enough now, I'll handle it."
There are more than just a 'few' dishes, and he's a little embarrassed that she's caught him piling their leftovers from the past week into the sink, but he figures if she's really feeling up to it, it'll be something for the both of them to do. Not that he'd ever had the option to protest to begin with.
She's already invading his personal space before he can say another word, all but taking over the task at hand. Her bare arm brushes against his as she stands in front of the sink, and he wonders if she feels the same tiny electric tendrils that he does whenever they make unexpected contact with each other.
"I'll rinse and dry," he offers, not wanting to let her take care of his laziness by herself.
She plugs the drain and turns on the faucet. "That's fine."
He braces his hands against the counter, unused to feeling so...well, useless. Since Sakura's injuries, the copy ninja had taken it upon himself to take care of everything, if only to keep busy. But in doing so, he had forgotten just how 'take-charge' Sakura normally was. Not that he's ever minded that quality in the least.
Sakura pours some dish soap into the sink and they both patiently watch as the hot water slowly bubbles up. Once it's full enough, she shuts the water off and grabs the first dish, a dinner plate, gets a rag wet with soap and starts scrubbing away. God, she's so beautiful. He really can't believe just how much she's grown into her features, how well she's matured.
Like a fine wine, they say.
He honestly doesn't believe it's rung more true than with Sakura Haruno. Sasuke was a fool for leaving her behind.
Sakura hands him the first clean dish, completely unaware of his inner musings as he snaps himself out of his little trance to focus on the task at hand. He switches on the faucet and rinses off the plate, drying it off and putting it away in the cupboard to the right. Another plate, and then some forks, spoons, and other such utensils come his way, and they've just begun to establish a rhythm when everything comes to a crashing halt, and to this day, he still can't pinpoint what had caused it.
Sakura idly hands him a bowl, and Kakashi moves to take it, when their fingers accidentally touch inside the rim. She looks up at him when she notices he doesn't take it fully from her hand, but once they lock eyes, it's as though all else around them is forgotten, melting away into a mutual pull that neither even notices because it's just that strong, that magnetic, that they can't break away.
He can't explain it.
And when they talk about it after, she can't either.
But there's something in the way he looks at her, and something in the way she looks at him, and it's like a new form of unspoken communication is born between them. The offered proposal, and the accepted invitation.
